Normally, people do not go walking after midnight in Souragne, especially on a night like this. Even though the night sky twinkled with thousands of stars and a bright full moon, the heat and humidity kept even the strongest person indoors. Even the wildlife seemed subdued, quieter than normal when considering the swampy locale.
Antoinette Howell made her way across the soggy ground, down a trail worn muddy by constant use. Even though she thought she was dressed for the swamp, sweat still poured down her lithe frame. She wore brown breeches and a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up. Her blonde hair was braided and hung down to her waist. As she walked, she wiped the sweat from her brow. If her guide was uncomfortable, he did not show it. He kept his back to her through the entire walk, not even bothering to check and see if she was following or not.
After what seemed likes hours, and after receiving many a mosquito bite, they arrived at their destination, a long dock going out into the watery byways of the swamp. The guide stopped at the shore and motioned for Antoinette to continue on down the block.
"This is as far as I go" the scruffy guide said as he held out his hand.
Antoinette fumbled around her satchel and gave her guide a gold coin. As she walked down the dock, over the water, the air seemed cooler. At the end of the dock, she noticed for silhouettes standing.
"Apparently I am not the only one who received an invitation." Antoinette thought. When she got closer and the light was better, she saw four young men standing there. They all looked barely old enough to be out of the crib, much less out in the middle of the night. As she approached, they all noticed her coming.
The first man came to her holding out his hand. He was dressed for distance fighting. He wore a leather breastplate with no shirt beneath it. His breeches were also pulled up and gathered about his knees. He wore a beautifully carved longbow on his back and a quiver with; Antoinette guessed about 20 arrows in it. She noticed his black hair and green eyes when he got close enough.
"I'm Aramus Fontaine." He said as Antoinette grabbed his hand. "I take it you were summoned here too?"
Before Antoinette could answer, the two of the other men pushed Aramus aside. The first to approach Antoinette was a mountain of a man. He kept his brown hair cropped close and his brown eyes showed hardness that looked out of place on one so young. He was dressed in full plate armor, a large battleaxe hung off his hip.
"We don't have time for this and I do not like mysteries." The man said. "I'm Athos Bardot; do you know why we are here?"
Before Antoinette could answer, the other man stepped between them and started to shake Antoinette's hand. He was much smaller then Athos, but larger than Aramus. However, he still had carried the same strength and determination in his swagger. Like Athos, he was dressed in full plate mail, but seemed bothered by its heat. A masterwork longsword hung off his hip and a shied was strapped to his back. His green eyes actually shone like he enjoyed life and his light brown hair was unkempt.
"Ignore him my lady." He stated, "Athos lacks patience when it comes to mysteries. On the other hand, I cannot wait to see how this night unfolds. I am George Boudreaux."
After greeting the two men, Antoinette noticed another standing at the end of the dock looking out over the water. She went over and introduced herself to him.
"Sorry ma'am," the young man said, "I didn't mean to be rude. I just thought that what brought us here was out there, watching us. I am Samuel Dupre."
Unlike the others, Antoinette sensed that Samuel had no experience whatsoever. His blonde hair was tied into a neat ponytail and his blue eyes shined like they had not lost their innocence.
"I assume it was the dreams that brought you out here?" Samuel asked Antoinette.
When Antoinette started to answer, the others gathered around them.
"It started about a month ago." Antoinette began. "I would sleep and it seemed like something was trying to talk to me. I dreamed I was in a swamp and someone was talking all around me, but I couldn't tell who it was or see their face. As I looked for them, I would go deeper and deeper into the swamp until I was trapped in quicksand. Gripped with panic, I tried to grab the limbs of the trees, a vine, anything to pull me out. When I was up to my shoulders, I look up and there is a man standing there. I cannot make out his face. Instead of helping me, he puts his foot on my head and pushes me under. Then I wake up."
All four men explained that they had a similar dream although sometimes it was a woman pushing them under the quicksand, or a wolf, or a crocodile. AS they were recounting their stories, a bright light suddenly lit up in the distance. In the dark night, it looked like a miniaturized sun floating over the water getting closer and closer. Athos and George drew their weapons.
The light turned out to be a lantern attached the end of a square raft. A lone, hooded figure was in the back pushing the raft through the water. When it reached the dock, the hooded figure motioned for the five strangers to board the raft. Once aboard, the raft started floating down the waterway,
The sounds of the swamp filled the air as the raft floated down the bayou. The stars all but disappeared under the canopies of the weeping willows and other trees of the swamp. The hooded figure guided the raft down many waterways, headed deeper and deeper into the swamp.
Despite several questions, the hooded figure would not answer any questions. Any question he was asked was met with silence. The hood concealed his entire face and long flowing robes covered his body. It was impossible to tell whether the figure was a man or a woman. It just seemed intent on following the river made of moonlight on the water.
When the waterway widened, the sound of the swamp grew eerily silent. Antoinette hugged herself for warmth as the air got colder and colder. The hooded figure pointed at a small island which everyone assumed was their destination. The small island was barely large to support any plant life. Only small, random blades of grass grew on the sandy shore. Athos guessed the island to be about 15 feet long and 7 feet at its widest part. When they reached the island, the hooded figure bade them to exit the raft. It stayed on the raft, as if patiently waiting.
Aramus looked over the island. Other than a few bird tracks, he could not see any evidence of any wildlife ever setting foot on it. After a few minutes of waiting, Athos started to lose his patience. He had been drug out in the middle of the swamp in the middle of the night. The air was now so frigid he could see his breath. He looked at everyone else and they were all hugging themselves for warmth as well, Samuel with his arms around Antoinette. Athos purposely walked on the raft and grabbed the hooded figure only to wind up holding empty robes. Everyone quickly scrambled back onto the raft and Athos tried to paddle back the way they came, but the raft would not move. Suddenly, the raft tipped over, sprawling everyone back onto the sandy shore.
"I do hate it when guests leave the party early." A smooth voice said. "I find it terribly rude."
The party looked up and saw a tall man with long black hair standing in the middle of the island. His features were a little sunken in and his eyes flashed with devilish humor. He was dressed like nobility. He reached out his hand to help Antoinette to her feet. When she took it, it felt cold, ice cold. She recoiled a little and back herself up. Athos and George drew their weapons while Aramus notched up and arrow.
"Put your weapons away." The man angrily ordered. "They will do you no good against me. If I had wanted you as my slaves, it would have already happened." The man then returned to his genteel voice. "However, it turns out that I happen to need your help."
Noticing the power and menace of the man's voice, as well as the hint of daring, the men lowered their weapons.
"Why would we help you?" Athos asked, "You drag us out here in the middle of the night and then you show up out of nowhere. And now…"
"Please let me explain." The man interrupted. "Around these parts, I am known as the Lord of the Dead. I am the uncontested ruler of Souragne. I enforce precious few laws but they are absolute. One of them is that bodies may not be buried until three days has elapsed since I may want to claim them. In Marais D'Tarascon, they have been practicing my law; however, I have not been able to claim the bodies. Circumstances prevent me from investigating this myself. That is where you come in. You will investigate Marais D'Tarascon and find out why I cannot claim what is mine."
"And if we refuse?" Athos asked.
"That would not be a . . . wise choice." The Lord of the Dead replied. "I do not grant many favors to the living. Right now, my boon is allowing you to live." He then pointed at Antoinette. "As for you little enchantress, another one of my laws is that magic other than necromancy and the healing arts is forbidden. For you, I will allow it, but only during the course of your investigation. You do not want to find out the punishment for disobeying my laws."
The Lord of the Dead then pointed to the raft.
"You may use that to get to Marais D'Tarascon." The Lord of the Dead continued. "You will find that you will not need to guide it, it will take you to your destination on its own." The Lord of the Dead's face then took on a more sinister look and his voice a more sinister tone. "One other thing, you are never to tell anyone that you are working for me. If you do . . . let's just say there are things worse than death."
The party got on the raft and it started moving itself back into the swamp. Antoinette turned to look back at the island, but found it as deserted as it was when they first arrived.
On its own power, the raft smoothly makes its way through the thick tangle of branches and exposed roots of the swamp. The wind blew through the trees, creating a rustling that is the only sound heard in a swamp so teeming with life. As the woods gave way, a light a shone in the distance, brighter than any lantern. The raft slowly made its way toward this bright light. The source of the light was a small wooden cabin on stilts. The inside was brightly lit up. The two small windows and open door made it seem like a large jack-o-lantern hovering over the water. When the raft got closer to the cabin, a rope ladder fell out of the door, but no one tried to see who was approaching.
Samuel tested the ladder first, putting one foot on the bottom rung and slowly increasing his weight. Sure that it could hold his weight, he climbed up. When he got to the top, he saw a small room lit by over a dozen lanterns. To the left of the door, he saw boxes, all unopened, stacked neatly with an open barrel of water beside them. IN the center of the room surrounded by five lanterns, a young man with long, blonde hair sat, staring blankly at the door. Despite his haggard look, his clothes were freshly cleaned.
As Samuel climbed into the shack, the young man made no move towards him. Samuel tried several greetings, but none seemed to work to get the young man's attention. The young man had a book in his lap. When Samuel tried to grab the book, the young man grabbed his arm.
"The on descend shall evil of night land, as near is signs of hexad this when hand."
Samuel release the book and the young man returned to quiet contemplation. Samuel looked out the door and motioned for the others to come up the ladder. One by one they made their way into the shack. Athos opened one of the boxes and found all kinds of fresh stores within. He took a piece of beef jerky and started chewing heartily.
"What do you make of this?" he asked no one in particular.
Antoinette waved her hand in front of the young man's face.
"No reaction whatsoever." She stated.
Aramus looked out the door and stared out into the night.
"I think we are safe here." He said, "I suggest we get some sleep and see where this raft takes us in the morning."
"What of the Lord of the Dead?" George asked.
"We're no good to him tired." Aramus replied.
As if to echo the sentiment, Athos started to blow out the lanterns. The young man started screaming hysterically when the light went out. He threw himself on the floor and started banging his head on the floorboards. Athos hurriedly relit the lantern. The young man eventually calmed down and resumed his meditation. Athos grumpily laid on the floor and was eventually fast asleep. Aramus was not far behind. George removed his armor and carefully placed it in a corner of the room. Eventually, he was fast asleep as well. Antoinette took out her spell book and started reading.
"What are you doing?" Samuel asked.
"Memorizing spells." Antoinette replied. "If something magical is happening here, I will need Detect Magic and Read Magic to aid this investigation. Also, considering who we are helping, I think Detect Undead will also be needed. I am also memorizing a couple of offensive spells just in case."
Samuel backed away from her. Antoinette looked up from her book and chuckled to herself.
"All mages are evil huh?" Antoinette asked as she read.
"I've never met a good mage." Samuel replied. "There is an old saying about the corrupting influence of power."
"To each their own." Antoinette replied as she continued reading. Samuel finally curled up and fell asleep. When she was finished, Antoinette closed her book and went to sleep as well.
The next morning, the group awakened from a fitful sleep. Samuel looked out the door and saw the raft still sitting at the bottom. The day was overcast with rolling black clouds. Every once in a while, a bolt of lightning lit up the sky followed by a loud thunderclap. When this storm broke, it promised to be powerful. IN the distance, Samuel notice buildings, the tell-tale sign of a village. After packing their supplies, everyone climbed down onto the raft. As they were pulling away. The young man suddenly leapt out of the cabin and splashed down into the water. He swam towards the raft where George and Athos pulled him up.
"Crazy as a loon." Athos remarked.
The raft eventually made shore. The village was only a short walk across wet ground. When they got into town, every building was locked up tight. The noise of the village brought them to the large church in the center of town. When they investigated, the party arrived at a funeral in procession. Faces full of mourning gazed at them when they arrived, but no one spoke. Everyone looked up at the priest who stood over a coffin wrapped in chains.
The priest spoke loudly over the through. "Friends and family, we mourn the death of Jeremiah d'Gris." He spoke, "Let us all take comfort that he will go to a better and happier place. We all pray his final rest is peaceful and without incident. He will be missed, but he will not be welcome here again. We all pray he departs this plane and goes to the next world."
As the priest continued on, a muffled bang emanated from the coffin. All the villagers flinched for a moment, but regained the mourning. Again and again the banging noises came from the coffin but the priest and all the villagers ignored it.
Athos and George grab their weapons and charge into the crowd, determined to set the poor soul trapped in the coffin.
"Don't." Samuel cries as they take off. The villagers all grab at the fighters as the make their way towards the coffin, but they tear free of their grasps. Finally, the Priest stands in between them and the coffin.
"Please." The priest pleads, "You don't know what your do…"
Athos knocks the priest out of the way and starts chopping away at the chains holding the coffin closed. The villager all panic and scatter. The Priest lays on the ground, watching with sad eyes. Finally, the chain breaks free. George removes the lid of the coffin and staggers back from the stench emanating from it. Jeremiah d'Gris or what is left of him sat up. His face was gray and sagged lifelessly. Parts of his skull could be seen. His skin was mottled and fell off as he staggered his way out of the coffin. With a growl, he knocked George aside and went after Athos. Two arrows shot from Aramus landed in the zombie's chest, which made it stagger back. Athos quickly drew swung his mighty axe and lopped off the zombie's head. Jeremiah d'Gris laid dead, again.
The priest got up and started to put Jeremiah back into the coffin. Other villagers came out of hiding and started to help. After the coffin was wrapped back up in chains, it was loaded onto a wagon and carted off.
"Pierot, our cemetery caretaker, will take it from here." The priest said to the party. "Come inside with me, I believe we have much to discuss, including how things are not what they seem here in Marais D'Tarascon."
Just like the outside, the inside of the church was simple. About seven to ten rows of hardwood pews lined the one room chapel. A raised platform with a small podium stood at the further end of the room. The priest motioned for the party to sit in the first pew. The Priest then took the young man by the hand and had him sit on the platform beside him. The young man offered no protest.
"I'm Shaman Brucien." The Priest said. "This is Luc. He is a lost one, unable to care for himself. I placed him in the shack in order to protect him. How did you manage to get here?"
The party told Shaman Brucien about how they arrived, leaving out the involvement of the Lord of the Dead. When they finished, Shaman Brucien climbed up on the platform and removed a book from the podium. He then sat back down and flipped through a few pages.
"Perhaps your coming is a sign from the loas." Shaman Brucien said when he was finished. "We worship the spirits of the swamp here and they work in mysterious ways. If you do not mind, I have to ask you to leave. I try to get out to see Luc at least once every three days. I visited him two days ago and brought him fresh supplies. I would like to be sure he is all right. It is unlike him to leave the cabin at any time."
As the party turns to go, Luc shouts "In sorcerer the Daegon of house the born, though shall unliving, unlife, life scorn."
Shaman Brucien quickly started to lead Luc out of the church. "I am sorry." He stated, "Luc has seen much and recites this nonsense gibberish as a way of coping with what he has been through."
As the party made their way towards the exit of the church, the burst open and a large man wearing leather armor storms in. He was older and the party could tell he was experienced with the longsword he carried. His eyes betrayed a steely confidence and his face was hardened into a scowl of anger directed at Athos and George.
"The two of you are under arrest for disturbing the peace." The man said.
"Under whose authority?" Athos replied angrily, fingering his axe.
"The town constable." The man replied, "Constable Randall Gremmin. Now hand over your weapons."
Athos started to draw his axe, but Shaman Brucien came running back into the church.
"Do not defile this holy place with violence." Shaman Brucien shouted.
Reluctantly, Athos handed over his axe while George gave up his sword. Constable Gremmin marched them down the street, into his office, and locked them into a cell. Aramus, Samuel and Antoinette, along with Shaman Brucien followed behind.
When Constable Gremmin sat down, Shaman Brucien tried to relay the mitigating circumstances, but the constable waived him off. Shaman Brucien left in a huff. Samuel, Aramus, and Antoinette also tried to plead for Athos and George but to no avail. They also left, promising to work it all out and went back to the church.
When they entered the church, they found Shaman Brucien reading his book in the first pew.
"Sorry for that." Shaman Brucien said. "Randall is a good man. When he calms down, I will try again and he may be in a more reasonable mood. Times have been trying here lately"
"What's going on?" Samuel asked, "I have been to a couple of funerals, but this is the first time I have ever seen the dead not want to be buried."
Shaman Brucien closed his book and placed it on the pew beside him.
"I have briefly mentioned the loas." Shaman Brucien replied. "The loas and the spirits of the swamp are one of the same. There are several loas that are worshipped, but the two major ones are the Maiden of the Swamp and the Lord of the Dead. The Lord of the Dead demands that we do not bury our bodies until three days have passed. Normally, when he claims a body, which is not very often, we never notice it. He claims it during the night when we are all asleep. When we go to bed, the body is there, when we wake up, it is gone. The Lord of the Dead has been more active as of late. Every dead body is now claimed, often right after death. The first one was three weeks ago. A farmer named Hogarth just dropped dead to the ground. Within minutes, he rose back up and walked out of town. Since then, I have been sealing the coffins. Besides the deaths. People have also gone missing. Constable Gremmin's son has been missing for three days, others even longer. Since then, I do not think he has been thinking clearly. He suspects everyone. I believe it is best you get a room at the Full Moon Inn. This afternoon, I will try to reason with Constable Gremmin and get your friends free."